A/N: Hello everyone! Like many of you, I've been busy playing Hogwarts Legacy over the past few weeks. I'm currently deciding how much of the newly-established canon from the game world I'm going to incorporate into this AU, so my updates may be slower than usual as I plan ahead with new information in mind. Hopefully you'll start to see some influences from the game reflected in this story, even if it's as minor as new Hogwarts locations or familiar surnames!
January 1, 2015 (Evangeline)
The new year dawned frigid and windy at Shell Cottage. Eva found herself alone when she awoke late in the morning, looking across the room to find Victoire's bed empty. Somewhere in the distance she could hear playful laughter as the youngest Weasley children spent quality fun time with their older sister. Victoire clearly had a strong bond with her younger siblings and wanted to maximize the time she had with them before she had to return to Hogwarts.
That was fine by Eva. She was used to much quieter holidays – solitary affairs where she could catch up on sleep, homework and reading. She finally felt as though she had a handle on the Hogwarts curriculum and was now looking ahead to her O.W.L.s in the spring – no time like the present to prepare for her toughest academic challenge yet. She got out of bed and headed downstairs for breakfast, planning to return to her room for much of the afternoon to get some work done.
The entire family was downstairs when she emerged. Victoire, Dominique and Louis were in the sitting room, playing a game of Exploding Snap; Bill was in the kitchen, accepting a plate of food from Fleur. "Good morning, Evangeline!" Fleur beamed when she walked in. "Hungry?"
"Yes, thank you," Eva admitted. She sat at the opposite end of the table as Fleur bustled about the kitchen preparing a plate for her. Bill picked up a copy of The Daily Prophet and began reading while munching on his breakfast. Eva glimpsed the headline from across the table: MINISTER GRANGER ANNOUNCES NEW MUGGLE OUTREACH PROGRAM IN BOSTON, MA.
"I 'ad an idea thees morning, Bill," said Fleur as she brought Eva a plate. "Tomorrow ees ze last day before ze girls return to school. Per'aps we could visit Diagon Alley for some shopping? Eet would be good to get ze children out of ze house."
"Can't," Bill grumbled. "I have to visit the Ministry tomorrow. Some stupid regulatory meetings with the Department of Magical Finance."
"Per'aps I could take ze children myself, then?" Fleur suggested. "You can join us after you are done."
"That could work," Bill shrugged. "I'll try to get out of it early."
"Actually, Mr. Weasley," piped in Eva. "Would it be alright if I came with you to the Ministry?"
Bill looked down his newspaper at her in surprise. "Are you sure, Evangeline?" he asked her. "It's quite boring in there, I promise you."
"I've always wanted to visit," Eva shrugged. "I've read a lot about British politics, you see, and I'd like to see it for myself."
"I see," said Bill. "Well, I can get you into the Ministry as a visitor, but I wouldn't be able to show you around—"
"What's this about the Ministry?" asked Victoire, as the three hungry Weasley children barged into the kitchen.
"Evangeline wishes to visit tomorrow," said Fleur as she prepared breakfast for her brood. "Per'aps you can accompany 'er, Victoire."
"Sure!" Victoire said brightly. "Dad's taken me loads of times; I know where all the good food spots are."
"Can we come too, Daddy?" asked Louis hopefully.
"Your mother is going to Diagon Alley while I work," Bill told him. "I bet if you ask her nicely, she'll take you and your sister to Fortescue's."
Dominique and Louis turned excitedly to Fleur. "Can we, Mum, can we?" Dominique asked.
"I suppose so," Fleur smiled, throwing an exasperated look at her husband for suggesting the ice cream parlor. "We can all meet for dinner after."
The family chattered excitedly about the upcoming field trip. Eva felt relieved that the Weasleys hadn't asked her too many questions about her true intentions at the Ministry. She actually had some things she wanted to do while she was there, things she wanted to keep private.
For one thing, it was her dream to shake Minister Granger's hand and tell her how much she meant to her. An innocuous enough gesture, but one she didn't need getting back to Headmaster Potter. For another, she wanted to check on the status of the investigation into her parents' murder – if anyone would have information about them, it would be the British Ministry, who cared more about Muggle lives than most of the wizarding world.
But the third and most important reason was the most essential to keep to herself. Ever since her incident at Slughorn's Christmas party, she had been determined to brew the Potion of Omniscience for herself. Most of the ingredients she knew she could find at Hogwarts, but there was one ingredient that would be trickier to obtain: Essence of Thought. It was heavily regulated and couldn't be purchased from any private seller (legally, at least). The only known place where the substance could be found was at the British Ministry of Magic, in a place called the Department of Mysteries. Eva was determined to see if she could get her hands on it before returning to school for the winter term.
The next morning, the house was abuzz early as the family prepared for the journey. Eva was up and ready an hour early, too excited to sleep in. "Victoire, we're going to be late!" Bill chastised his eldest daughter when she stumbled down the stairs for breakfast. "I have a meeting in twenty minutes!"
"Yeah, yeah," Victoire croaked tiredly, grabbing a piece of toast from the table. "'M coming, 'm coming."
It was another fifteen minutes before the family was gathered in the living room around the fireplace. "Bill, you go ahead," Fleur sighed, still attempting to wrangle a fussing Louis into his overcoat. Bill led the way through the grate and into the green flame; Eva followed shortly after him and Victoire, spinning away into darkness.
She emerged moments later on a bustling street, with pedestrians all around them headed for work. "Dad, why didn't we Floo directly into the Atrium?" Victoire asked.
"We have to use the visitors' entrance today," Bill said hurriedly. "Now come, we're running late!" And he led the way down the busy street into the heart of downtown London. But Eva hesitated – something about the road she was standing on seemed oddly familiar to her. Like she'd seen pictures of it in a book somewhere. Her question was answered when she spotted a bronze plaque on a nearby wall:
This site commemorates the site of the Battle of the Leaky Cauldron, resulting in the loss of 43 magical and 357 non-magical lives on March 7, 2003.
"Oi, Prewitt, move it or lose it!" Victoire shouted from down the street, and Eva hustled to catch up.
Eva could tell that most of the pedestrians walking among them were fellow witches and wizards – there was no mistaking those flowing robes that no Muggle would dare to wear. But that wasn't the only distinguishing factor...Eva noticed how most of the foot traffic stuck to the sidewalks while the magical community strode straight down the middle of the street. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Eva wondered quietly; the non-magical population outnumbered them nearly twenty to one after all. But why keep separate in the first place? Perhaps it wasn't an enforced segregation, but a preferred one, and she recognized the familiar resentment of the faces on the sidewalk she made eye contact with.
The Muggle crowds dispersed the closer they got to the Ministry and its familiar glass-domed facade. Eva knew that the exterior, once designed as a symbol of opulence and superiority over the Muggles, had been converted into a wizarding museum at the behest of Minister Granger, meant for Muggles and wizards alike to come and learn about the history of magical cooperation with the outside world. But not a single Muggle entered the ornate lobby with the rest of the crowd – and why should they? Eva couldn't imagine why anybody would want to spend the day learning the history of how the magical world had repeatedly kept their powers to themselves.
The crowd of Ministry employees crossed the lobby towards the fireplaces, guarded by a group of lazy-looking wizards in shining purple robes. "Identification?" one asked in a bored tone as Bill and the two girls approached.
Bill waved his wand to display his ID number above his head. "And two guests," he explained, gesturing to Eva and Victoire behind him. The guard shrugged and stepped aside, granting them access to the fireplaces, which they stepped through into the Atrium of the Ministry itself. Eva wondered at the marvelous black-marbled floors and vaunted ceilings as Bill hurried them through the security checkpoint.
"Right, I'm late for my meeting," he said, glancing at his watch nervously. "You two behave yourselves, understood? I'll try to meet you for lunch, but otherwise you're on your own. I trust you can find your way to Diagon Alley if you need something from your mother?"
"Come on, Dad, we're not kids anymore," Victoire rolled her eyes. Bill clearly didn't agree with this logic, but he had no choice; he bade them farewell and hurried off towards the lifts.
"Right, then," Victoire said, clapping her hands together. "What first?"
"Erm...I dunno," Eva shrugged, secretly trying to find an excuse to shake Victoire off and explore on her own. "Maybe we can see if they give tours?"
"On a workday? Unlikely," Victoire scoffed. "That's kinda what the museum upstairs is for—oh, I know! Let's go bother Uncle Percy!"
"Sorry?" asked Eva.
"He works on the administration level," Victoire explained. "He'll tell us he's too busy, but that's rubbish...according to Dad, he just sits behind his big desk all day filling out paperwork. We can convince him to show us around!"
"Erm...alright, sure," Eva agreed, and Victoire led the way towards the lifts. She wasn't eager about having another Weasley around to have to dodge, but at least she was getting closer towards her goals. Besides, she might be able to get some answers from someone as knowledgeable as Percy about the ultimate goal she sought in the Department of Mysteries…
Eva and Victoire managed to hop into a half-filled lift, which began transporting them upwards towards level one. "Why is it that your dad and Uncle Fred are still close with Percy?" Eva asked as they waited to reach their destination. "Your aunt made it sound like he's some kind of traitor."
"Oh, don't mind what she says when she's drunk," Victoire said dismissively. "She considered anyone who wasn't on the front lines a traitor. The real adults recognize what had to be done to survive the war...that's what Dad says, anyway."
"And you agree with that?" Eva asked innocuously. Victoire gave her a surprised look, eyebrow raised.
"Why the sudden interest in politics?" she asked. "That's boring adult nonsense, if you ask me. I try not to worry myself with all that."
Eva just shrugged and decided to drop the subject. And yet, you don't question why the family doesn't talk about your other two uncles, she thought with a silent laugh of incredulity. If anything, she felt like drunken Ginny had spoken more truth about the war that night than she'd heard any adult admit to since arriving in Britain months ago…
The lift finally deposited them at the administration level, and Victoire led the way down the busy corridors towards Percy's office. It was wedged in one of the back annals of the floor, a quiet wing full of stone-faced witches and wizards silently filling out paperwork at their desks. Victoire stopped in front of a door and knocked. Eva took in the placard on the door: PERCY WEASLEY, Director – Department of Magical Ordinance and Regulation.
The door swung open, and Percy stuck his head out, surprised. "Victoire?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Where are your parents?" He scanned the hallway around them as though looking for them.
"Dad's in a meeting with the goblins," Victoire explained. "We came to see you, Uncle Perce! To see if you would show us around!"
"Ah," said Percy, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, you see...terribly busy, much to do...couldn't have come at a worse time...paperwork won't fill itself out…"
"It was my idea, Mr. Weasley," Eva piped in. "I told Victoire I was interested in working here at the Ministry, and she thought you might like to show me what it's like."
"You never told me you were interested in—" Victoire protested, but Eva stepped roughly on her toes to get her to shut up.
"You want to work here?" Percy asked, eyebrow raised. "It's terribly boring, I'm afraid—"
"Oh, I don't mind!" Eva said, forcing an easy smile. "I've always been interested in, erm, regulations and whatnot. Hearing you and Bill talk about it over dinner the other day was...illuminating."
Eva could practically hear the confusion radiating from Victoire's brain, but Percy appeared to perk up at this. "You don't say?" he said. "I've never met anyone else who enjoys the minutia of government quite like I do, besides my wife of course...you know, on second thought, I may be able to spare some time for a quick tour."
"Excellent!" Eva beamed. "I look forward to learning more about what you do here."
"Are you mental?" Victoire hissed seconds later as Percy led the way deeper into the department. "He must be the worst tour guide on the planet! He'll spent twenty minutes lecturing us on the history of every pillar in the Atrium…"
"We can guide him towards the more interesting stuff," Eva whispered back. But she soon shared Victoire's concern, as Percy spent the first ten minutes of their tour explaining the history of the Department of Magical Ordinance and Regulation and its many exciting (?) legislative victories over the centuries.
"...Which is precisely why our office is required to sign off on cauldron thickness standards!" Percy was saying animatedly during a long-winded diatribe on the follies of governmental corner-cutting. "When I think of the many lives I've saved indirectly through robust fact-checking and careful attention paid to the minor details most other departments would rather skip over—"
"Say, Uncle Percy?" Victoire chimed in. "Many we could tour some of the other departments on your floor?"
"Hmm? Ah, yes," said Percy absentmindedly. "I suppose it is important to know how all the departments work in conjunction with one another." And he finally led the way out of the area, which was starting to lull Eva to sleep with its monotone gray schemata and lifeless workers toiling away at their desks.
Percy explained the function of several other obscure departments as they strolled down the hall. Eva was amazed at how specific some of them were – Department of Alchemical Registry? Department of Inter-Departmental Communications? It felt like a parody of a bureaucratic hellscape, one that made Eva regret claiming to want a Ministry job more and more by the second.
As they passed by yet another department, Eva was drawn to a large poster of Hermione Granger hanging on the wall. She recognized it at once: her official Minister's portrait, smiling confidently and posing in a smart pantsuit. Her first thought was one of pride: a strong leader, watching over her loyal understudies. But upon closer inspection, she noticed the burn marks peppering the portrait – the telltale remnants of a standard Stinging Hex, which commonly peppered the walls of Hogwarts as students took aim at their fellows when teachers and prefects weren't looking.
Just as she recognized this, she felt a buzz of magic fly past her ear and saw yet another mark appear on the portrait. "Nice shot, Everett!" a nearby worker exclaimed, high-fiving his desk mate, who had successfully hit Granger in the ear with his hex.
"Mind the children if you don't mind, Mr. Everett," Percy chastised the man in passing, though he didn't sound entirely bothered by the vandalized poster itself.
"Is Minister Granger quite popular around here, Mr. Weasley?" asked Eva innocently, already suspecting that she knew the answer.
"It varies from department to department," Percy shrugged. "On the whole I'd say most tolerate her. Though there is a faction that finds her deeply unpleasant and wishes to expel her from office. There have been a number of attempts at a no-confidence vote in the Wizengamot, though Granger always seems to wriggle out of it."
"Is...is she here, do you reckon?" Eva asked. "Could we see her office?"
"I'm afraid she spends much of her time abroad lately," Percy sighed. "Last I heard she was in the United States, working with the Muggle President on something or other. Certainly doesn't help her popularity, mind."
"What do you think of Minister Granger, Uncle Percy?" Victoire pressed, eyes aglow with the prospect of juicy gossip.
"I do not engage in such petty squabbles," Percy sniffed haughtily. "She is my boss, and I serve my office with distinction. My personal opinion of her would never change that."
An impressive way of dodging the question, Eva silently noted.
"And here we have the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Percy said, gesturing to by far the busiest department of them all. "I try to avoid this department if able...bunch of self-righteous prats if you ask me. Any time they come into my office with a request, it's usually someone looking to cut the red tape and bypass regulation to get what they want. Unthinkable, really!"
Yes, what horror to have to visit Percy's department for any reason, Eva thought, suppressing a snicker. "Could we have a look inside?" she asked.
"I suppose," Percy grumbled, though clearly he was not fond of the idea. And strolling through the department, Eva got an idea why: it was very reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room, filled with boisterous, loud conversation and a more casual, laid-back environment. Now this was a department Eva could see herself thriving in...there was a time and a place for peace and quiet, but the thought of day after day in perpetual, miserable silence was unbearable.
Percy pointed out various sub-departments as they walked through the bustling space. Eva kept her eyes open for the Auror Office, which she knew must be somewhere in this area. She spotted it towards the end of a long hallway, with witches and wizards in the iconic gray Auror robes striding in and out on official business. She hoped Percy would take them closer for a good look inside, but he seemed determined to spend as little time as possible in this department as possible.
"That's about all you need to see here," he said, ushering them back out towards the main concourse. "Now, onto more exciting things, like the Department of Imports and Exports—"
"Oh! I think I've dropped my wand," Eva exclaimed, patting herself down exaggeratedly. "It must have just been moments ago back there."
"D'you need help finding it?" asked Victoire, looking eager for an excuse to escape Percy.
"No, I'm sure I know where I've left it," Eva said hurriedly, rushing back into the bustling department. "It'll be only a second!" And before either Weasley could protest, she hurried back towards the Auror Office, hoping she'd bought herself enough time to ask a few questions.
She stood uncertainly at the door to the office. Everyone there appeared busy with something; if they weren't hustling about the place with a determined pace, they were busy at their desks, filling out reports or arguing with their colleagues over some concealed plans or another.
"Can I help you with something, miss?" a voice asked; Eva turned to see a tall, kind-looking Auror standing behind her in the doorway.
"S-sorry to intrude," Eva said politely. "I was just looking for some information about my parents."
"Your parents?" the Auror asked, tilting his head in confusion. "Do they work in the Auror Office?"
"No," Eva said hastily. "They were killed, you see. By the C.A.W."
"Oh, dear, I'm sorry to hear it," the man said with a sympathetic frown. "When and where did this happen?"
"Last Halloween," said Eva. "Just outside of Brisbane, in Australia."
"Australia?" said the Auror in surprise. "You're a long way from home here, miss."
"Yes," said Eva. "I've just transferred to Hogwarts, you see. Headmaster Potter thought I might be safer there than at Willoughby."
"I don't doubt that he's right," the Auror nodded with a small smile. "Why don't we take a look at the files?"
The Auror led the way towards the back of the office, to a row of filing cabinets. "Last name?" he asked Eva.
"Prew—I mean, Thomas," said Eva. She'd been posing as a pure-blood for so long, she'd almost forgotten her true identity by now.
The Auror flicked his wand, opening a cabinet marked "T". He scanned the files for a moment, frowning.
"We have no record of a crime committed against a Thomas family," the man said. "And I confess, I hadn't heard of any C.A.W. activity in Australia. You're certain they were involved?"
"Positive," Eva nodded. "They spray-painted their logo outside my parents' house."
"Well, I'm sorry to say we have no information about it here," said the Auror. "Perhaps you ought to check with the Australian Ministry? I imagine they'd know more than we do."
So that was it, then. Eva's stomach sank as her worst fears were confirmed: nobody was looking into her parents' murders. She'd half-hoped that Potter would galvanize his own people to look into it, but it seemed the Ministry of Magic simply did not care about Muggle-on-Muggle crime, no matter the motive behind it.
"That's alright," Eva shrugged, forcing a smile on her face and glancing at the man's nametag. "Thank you for your time...Auror Longbottom."
"Please, call me Neville," Auror Longbottom smiled at her. "Best of luck to you, Miss Thomas."
Eva hurried back out to meet Percy and Victoire, twiddling her wand as she approached. "Found it," she smiled; Victoire looked mildly suspicious, but did not say anything else as Percy led them on to the next stop of their tour.
It was another hour or so before Eva and Victoire managed to extricate themselves from Percy's watchful eye, this time under the guise of an early lunch. "Well, I suppose I could eat," Victoire shrugged as they made their way back to the lower levels to the food court. "Didn't get much breakfast after all...you?"
"Sure," Eva shrugged. She was already mentally planning another escape from Victoire to visit the Department of Mysteries, though she wasn't sure that trip would take just a handful of minutes. She needed to find an excuse to disappear for at least half an hour, perhaps longer. She had no idea how tricky it would be to get her hands on the banned substance, and how many bureaucrats she'd have to talk herself past to get to it.
The food court was bustling with people already, as witches, wizards and even some goblins queued up at various stations to purchase their meal. "Mum gave us some spare gold for lunch," said Victoire, proudly rubbing two Galleons together as she scanned the menu boards. "What are you in the mood for?"
"You pick," said Eva, who wasn't particularly hungry.
Victoire eventually selected the seafood stand, which had quite the long and winding line already. Eva saw this as a perfect opportunity. "Y'know, I reckon my stomach can't handle seafood today," she said. "I think I'll just get a sandwich instead."
"Oh, alright, a sandwich sounds fine to me," said Victoire, moving to hop out of line with her.
"No no, you get whatever you want," said Eva dismissively. "We'll each queue separately and meet at the table once we've paid, yeah?"
"Oh...yeah, I suppose so," said Victoire. Eva's hunch had been correct: the girl's craving for good seafood outweighed her desire to talk Eva's ear off while they waited. "Meet you there!"
Eva made towards the sandwich stand, but once she was out of eyesight she bee-lined for the lifts. She'd bought herself maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, which she could maybe stretch to thirty before Victoire grew suspicious. She'd have to make up a reason why she would be returning to the table sandwich-less, but she could worry about that on the way back.
She was the only person taking the lift down to level nine at this hour, and she stepped out into a hallway made entirely of smooth, black stone. It was eerily silent as she marched towards the ornate door at the end of the hall. She stopped in front of it, there was no door handle she could see, nor any other way to open it. She pressed lightly against the surface, but the door did not budge. Seeing no other option, she knocked.
There was no response. Eva waited for several seconds, but no one came. She considered pulling out her wand and trying to unlock the door magically, but she had a feeling this would cause security to descend upon her within seconds. Discouraged, she turned to walk back towards the lift.
But as she did so, she heard a faint click as the door slid open, and Eva found herself face-to-face with a figure draped in intimidating black robes, a veiled covering over their face. "What is your business here?" the figure, a female, asked in a sharp voice.
An Unspeakable, Eva realized. She'd read about the mysterious, anonymous workers within the Department of Mysteries, but had never seen one in person before. "Erm...I'm here on Hogwarts business," she stammered. "Professor Slughorn has sent me in search of a rare potion ingredient."
"You'll want the Department of Magical Herbs and Plants on level six," the Unspeakable said coolly.
"I understand that it's only kept down here," said Eva. "Essence of Thought?"
If the Unspeakable was surprised by this remark, she did not show it, though perhaps that was only due to the face covering. "Come with me," she said instead. But she led the way not through the door into the department, but through a hidden side door, which sprung open when the Unspeakable tapped her wand to the wall. Eva followed her into a small holding area, furnished only with a bare desk and a pair of chairs, reminding her of a Muggle police interrogation room.
The Unspeakable beckoned for Eva to sit, then with a wave of her wand, she summoned a clipboard and quill. "Have you brought a check-out form bearing the crest of a registered Potion Master?" she asked.
"Erm...I haven't," Eva said. Then, deciding she ought to elaborate, she added, "I tried to obtain one in the Department of Magical Ordinance and Regulation, but they were terribly unhelpful—"
"Hmph," the Unspeakable grunted, and Eva silently prayed that Percy's department was as unpopular here as with the rest of the Ministry. "What is your name?"
"Erm...it would be Horace Slughorn's name checking it out, wouldn't it?" Eva said hopefully.
"Without a valid signature, I would need the name of the courier delivering it to Slughorn," said the Unspeakable.
"Right," said Eva. "Name's Evangeline. Evangeline Thomas." She said this without thinking once again, and again wondered if she ought to have used her alias.
"Thomas," muttered the Unspeakable as she jotted this down. "That a Muggle-born name?"
"Erm...yes, it is," Eva said truthfully. Might as well not give them reason to doubt her story, even over something as trivial as blood status.
The Unspeakable continued to scribble something on the clipboard, making Eva nervous. She wasn't thrilled about leaving a paper trail, but hopefully her visit would only be recorded on this one document and wouldn't be widely broadcast to anyone who might cause her grief. Finally, the Unspeakable waved her wand again, and the clipboard and quill disappeared. "Very well," she said. "Follow me."
The Unspeakable led the way back into the hall, and to Eva's astonishment, directly into the Department of Mysteries. Did that actually work? Eva thought. Would they let anyone come in and check out banned substances just by lying about whom it's intended for? But she wouldn't look a gift hippogriff in the beak, and she kept close to the Unspeakable as she led the way into a circular room lined with many doors.
The door behind them slammed shut, and the room began to spin rapidly. "Best to close your eyes if you get motion sickness," the Unspeakable said to Eva, who did indeed take this advice. When the room stopped spinning, she opened them again. "Tank Room!" the Unspeakable announced loudly, and a door to their right sprang open, which the two of them entered.
Eva looked around at the room they'd found themselves in. There were empty desks littering the space, and at the center of the room sat a large tank filled with greenish liquid. Eva approached the tank cautiously; small white creatures seemed to be swimming through the tank. But as she drew near, she realized they were not creatures at all – they were brains, floating in the murky substance, ribbons of white thought following along in their wake.
"Stand back," the Unspeakable instructed as she approached the top of the tank. She waved her wand to conjure a small flask, which she kept suspended in air with her wand. She gently dipped the flask towards the surface of the liquid, so slowly that Eva wondered if she was deliberately wasting time. Finally, the flask dipped beneath the surface and scooped up a vial-full of green liquid.
The reaction was immediate. The liquid began to froth madly as the brains began leaping up out of the tank, as though affronted by the disturbance. The Unspeakable quickly withdrew the flask, conjuring a stopper to close it and backing away from the tank. After a few seconds, the frenzy ceased, and the brains began to lazily float again.
"Here," said the Unspeakable, handing Eva the vial. "10 milliliters of Essence of Thought. Handle it with extreme care. As I'm certain Professor Slughorn informed you, it must be handled with extreme care and is not to be consumed without proper brewing precautions."
"Got it," Eva nodded. She stared into the murky liquid for a moment, noting the light wisps of thought drifting through the haze...it was oddly mesmerizing, but also disturbing. She carefully slipped the vial into her robe pocket, adding a Cushioning Charm around the glass as an extra precaution from breaking it. She knew how toxic and dangerous the substance was from her research.
The Unspeakable led her back out to the hallway, where Eva was thankfully allowed to leave. She hurried back to the food court, where she found Victoire alone at a table halfway finished with her meal, and concocted a story about an upset stomach and needing to find a bathroom. Victoire didn't seem to buy it completely, but she thankfully didn't pry too much. They wandered the Ministry a bit longer before deciding to leave and find the rest of the Weasley family in Diagon Alley. All the while Eva continued to check her robe pocket to ensure the valuable substance was still safely tucked away, marveling at her luck in obtaining it…
Things were seemingly back to normal when classes resumed at Hogwarts later that week. Eva was right back to the grind of lessons and homework, with most of her teachers regarding her with passive suspicion. Oddly enough, Ginny Weasley was not one of them; she neglected to call on Eva during History of Magic lessons and pick apart her responses. Perhaps Ginny had realized she'd said too much during her drunken Christmas night and had decided to play nice with Eva for the time being to rectify that lapse in confidence.
Quidditch practices also resumed in full force by the end of the first week back. Darby was enthusiastic about their strong start to the season and wanted to make sure they were fully prepared to take on Hufflepuff in a month's time. "I know Hufflepuff is rather rubbish this year, but we can't rest on our laurels!" Darby encouraged the team. "I want everyone laser-focused on winning this match!"
But truthfully, Eva's mind was far, far away during practice – she kept thinking about the small vial of green liquid, hidden within a rolled sock at the bottom of her school trunk. She hadn't had the time to find a proper hiding place for it, and the last thing she needed was for some nosy prefect to find it during a random dorm inspection. She needed to find a place to store the vial and begin brewing her potion. And she knew of just the right place…
After a particularly strenuous practice one Tuesday afternoon, Eva declined the team's offer to head into the Great Hall for dinner together and snuck off to the seventh floor corridor. She located the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and, after checking for any passers-by, began to pace back and forth past the blank stretch of wall opposite. I need somewhere to brew my potion safely, she thought. I need somewhere to brew my potion safely...I need somewhere to brew my potion safely…
On the third trip past the wall, a door had appeared out of thin air. Eva pushed it open to enter the Room of Requirement, and gasped at what she saw. It was similar to the Potions classroom, but far more refined, with state-of-the-art brewing equipment and a gleaming pewter cauldron seated at the center of the room. She ran an admiring hand across its surface – she had grown so used to borrowing the school cauldrons over the years that she'd never realized how nice the state-of-the-art equipment could be!
Now how am I going to find the rest of the ingredients I need? Eva wondered to herself. As if on command, a door sprung open to her right – a door that hadn't been there moments ago. She approached the door cautiously, and realized with surprise that it led directly into Slughorn's storeroom, its shelves stocked with every ingredient she could ever need. Amazed, she began to pull a few items she knew she would need for her potion off the shelves. She didn't linger long, as she could hear Slughorn shuffling about behind the closed door to his office, and she returned to her own private room, shutting the door behind her.
Eva placed her ingredients on a nearby table, including the Essence of Thought, which she'd brought with her to the locker room and concealed within her boot. No time like the present to get started, she thought to herself. The potion would take a long time to brew, with a few steps requiring several weeks of prep work, so she might as well begin the process as soon as possible. She began rummaging through a nearby cupboard for supplies she might need...
"Well, well. What have we here?"
Eva froze in fear at the sound of the voice. She turned slowly towards the front of the room, where she saw Roxanne Morrison standing in the doorway, marveling at the room before her.
"Roxanne," Eva breathed. "You...how did…?"
"Don't you know you need to tell the room if you want privacy?" Roxanne lightly chided her with a wink. "I just had to know what you were doing, sneaking around like this."
"Erm...just catching up on my Potions curriculum," Eva stammered.
"Uh huh," Roxanne hummed, clearly not believing her. She strolled over to a nearby table, where Eva had placed her supplies, picking up the small green vial of Essence of Thought. "This looks valuable."
"Be careful with that!" Eva pleaded. "It...wasn't easy to obtain."
"That so?" Roxanne mused, watching the swirling strands of memory float about inside the glass. Then, recognition dawned on her, and her eyes went wide. "Is this what I think it is?"
"If I said no, would you believe me?" Eva groaned.
"There was a rumor going around that you asked Slughorn about this at the Christmas party," said Roxanne. "Looks like it was more than a passing curiosity."
"Are you going to tell on me?" Eva asked worriedly.
"That depends," Roxanne said, tapping her chin and looking at Eva with a mischievous grin. "What's in it for me?"
Eva's stomach sank. The last thing she needed was another student holding this information over her head, threatening to expose her schemes to the Headmaster. It could jeopardize everything she hoped to achieve at Hogwarts. But then, Roxanne laughed.
"I'm only pulling your leg, Prewitt!" she grinned. "I would never discourage another Gryffindor from bending the rules for a little extra-curricular activity. Merlin, you look like you've seen a demiguise!"
Eva silently breathed a sigh of relief at this. "Thanks," she said. "It would not be an easy thing to explain to the Headmaster."
"I'll say," Roxanne snorted, examining the vial again. "I hear this stuff is rarer than unicorn blood. I won't ask how you got hold of it, but I simply must know what you plan to do with it!"
"It's...a side project of mine," Eva said evasively. "For a potion I'm brewing."
"I see," said Roxanne. Without warning, she tossed the glass vial across the room towards Eva, who hastily caught it before it could shatter on the stone floor. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get to brewing!"
"You're just going to sit here and watch?" Eva groaned. "It could take weeks, maybe months to complete."
"I have time," Roxanne yawned, jumping up to sit atop the table of ingredients. "I'm not the one who has O.W.L.s this spring. Consider it my payment for keeping your little secret."
Eva sighed. If that was the price she had to pay for Roxanne's silence, then so be it. She had always felt oddly at ease around the impulsive sixth-year; she may exude chaotic energy, but she was also fiercely loyal and protective of those in her circle. It would just be a matter of remaining in that circle.
"Fine," said Eva. With a flick of her wand, she lit the fire under the pewter cauldron and began to fill it with water. "Please don't crush my sopophorous beans."
Roxanne stuck out her tongue playfully, but dutifully scooted aside to avoid sitting atop the fragile beans. Eva reached around her for a ladle and began to stir.
I suppose there is worse company to keep, she thought to herself. Hopefully I can trust her...
